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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093857">All I Want</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eroine/pseuds/The_Eroine'>The_Eroine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The DR Project [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Help how do I tag, M/M, Video Game Mechanics, your honor they're in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:28:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eroine/pseuds/The_Eroine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>DR: The name for Microsoft's new, immersive gaming technology. "Digital Reality", as it is called, combines technology and a mental technique known as 'shifting' to allow gamers to experience the game in a whole new level of realism.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The DR Project [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2214732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Preface</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>DR: The name for Microsoft's new, immersive gaming technology. "Digital Reality", as it is called, combines technology and a mental technique known as 'shifting' to allow gamers to experience the game in a whole new level of realism. </em>
</p><p>Dream leaned back in his chair, scanning the email for any suspicious details. Finding none, he kept reading.</p><p>
  <em>The DR project has invited the biggest Minecraft Youtubers from around the world to come to Microsoft HQ in Seattle, WA. Each creator can invite a friend, and both of you will be flown out courtesy of Microsoft on December 16. </em>
</p><p>"December 16? That's really close to Christmas." Dream spoke aloud to the empty room. "I was looking for a Christmas present for George... maybe I could invite him? He always loves new technology." Dream picked up his phone, and spinning around to face away from his computer, he dialed George's number.</p><p>"Hey, George," Dream greeted, trying not to let his excitement show.</p><p>"Hey!" George responded, full of energy as normal.</p><p>"I got an email today," he started but was cut off by George.</p><p>"Don't you get, like, a thousand of those a day?" George questioned.</p><p>"Well, I do, but this one is from Microsoft, asking if I want to participate in a trial for their new "Digital Reality" thingie they're working on. And the best part is, I can bring a friend!"</p><p>"I don't know..." George sounded skeptical. "Isn't this how we always end up stuck in the video game in those fanfictions people write about us?"</p><p>"Yeah, but this is using a mental technique and the technology is to help us master the technique." Dream pointed out.</p><p>"I suppose I could do it," George still sounded skeptical, but also more excited.</p><p>"Alright!" Dream practically shouted as he spun back around to face his computer again. "I'll respond to the email and let them know!"</p><p>"Bye," George said, but Dream barely heard him as he started typing out a response:</p><p>
  <em>Hello! Thank you for inviting me to be a part of this project! I would love to come test it out, and I spoke with my friend GeorgeNotFound, and he said he would be down for it as well. I look forward to hearing further details from the team, and trying things! Thank you. Dream</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"George?" A familiar voice, the first familiar thing, shook him from his thoughts, and he glanced up from the floor where he'd been looking. A tall man with tan skin, sandy hair that fell in loose waves around his face, and piercing green eyes that twinkled either with mischeif or delight, George wasn't sure, walked over. "So, do I look like you expected?" He asked, his tone playful.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George wanted something to be familiar. The whole place was unfamiliar, from the people, to the building, to even how people drove. The other Youtubers and himself had flown in earlier, and were now gathered inside the main building of the Microsoft corporation headquarters with all of their luggage. Everyone was there, except for Dream. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Typical Dream,</span>
  </em>
  <span> George thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always late to everything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"George?" A familiar voice, the first familiar thing, shook him from his thoughts, and he glanced up from the floor where he'd been looking. A tall man with tan skin, sandy hair that fell in loose waves around his face, and piercing green eyes that twinkled either with misceive or delight, George wasn't sure, walked over. "So, do I look like you expected?" He asked, his tone playful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- I- " George stammered. To say Dream was attractive would be an understatement. With his muscular, yet lean build, and that perfect smile, he could easily have been a model for a mens' fashion magazine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing, his laugh tearing down the boundaries George had built around himself. George let the taller man pull him into a tight embrace. "Thanks for coming with me," Dream's voice was barely a whisper, and his breath was hot in George's ear. George tried hard not to blush, but felt heat rise to his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I should probably answer</span>
  </em>
  <span>, George thought distantly. He pulled himself back to reality, saying, "of course!" as he stepped away awkwardly. Neither one knew what to say after that, so they stood there, in an awkward silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello everybody." A woman with fiery hair and glasses broke the silence, much to the relief of George. She wore a teal sweater over a black blouse, paired with black pants and boots. "I'll be giving you a tour of the facility and answering any of your questions before you start the trial tomorrow." The woman, Ms. Stuart, as she said her name was, seemed nice and fairly normal, which was a good thing. Maybe George had just been reading too much DreamNotFound fanfiction, but this seemed exactly like a situation out of a fanfic: Dream and George being invited to a corporate headquarters, to test out some new virtual reality-style technology. They would then end up trapped in the game, and have to figure out how to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream nudged George, “You coming?” he joked. George looked down at the floor, embarrassed. He had gotten lost in his own thoughts, and missed that everyone had started moving. If Dream hadn’t snapped him out of it, he could have easily missed everyone leaving, and then he would have been lost. “Wait, are you nervous?” Dream seemed to pick up on George’s discomfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, a little,” George said. He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either. He would never tell Dream that truth. It… it just would make things weird. He followed Dream out of the main entrance hall, not bothering to notice the architecture of the building. They caught up to the rest of the group, where Ms. Stuart was showing them the room they would be doing the testing in. It was large, with picturesque windows, and a fair number of soft-looking couches. The tour moved quickly onwards, showing the cafeteria that was more like a high-end restaurant, the courtyard with a massive fake tree, and the museum of sorts showcasing all of Microsoft’s products. They made it back to the main entrance, where all of their luggage was still waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Stuart handed them a scrap of paper and a credit card looking thing. “There’s the address of your hotel, and when you get there, just give the manager this card and he will get you checked in. The suite has already been pre-arranged, similar to your flights.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mumbo took the two objects from the woman, thanking her. They all found their luggage, and moved outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, question. How are we supposed to get to the hotel?” Grian asked, blinking at the sudden sunlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s got the Uber app on their phone?” Joel asked. “Because whoever has it should just get an Uber for the rest of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream pulled out his phone. “I’ve got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within minutes, an Uber pulled up, and after much hauling of luggage, they gave the driver the address of the hotel. Arriving there, everyone could see that it was an expensive hotel. It was large, with gold handles on the black doors, and a steak restaurant inside. The lobby was immaculate. Large, overstuffed armchairs that no one had ever sat in, fake potted plants, even the music, it was that weird slow jazzy saxophone music. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey George,” Dream moved to stand by him. “Wanna dance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George blushed. “Dream!” he complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s the perfect song!” Dream teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn’t respond. This was too uncomfortable. He needed to get away. He tried to seem inconspicuous as he moved to the elevators, where the others were waiting, minus Dream and Mumbo, who was checking them in. Mumbo came back with the room key, and they all shuffled into the elevator. George noticed Dream keep glancing at him, then quickly glancing away. It kept happening, and it was getting really awkward, but thankfully, the elevator beeped, opening the doors onto the floor taken up by the penthouse suite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, no one told me we were getting the penthouse suite.” Grian exclaimed. “This is insane.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The main room had a flatscreen TV, a couch, a popcorn machine, and a cabinet full of board games. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, so according to the manager, there are three bedrooms. I was figuring we could each share with our friend that we invited?” Mumbo suggested, trying to find something to do to fill the silence and absence of movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine with me,” Lizzie agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone started moving their luggage into their respective bedrooms, except for Dream. George had taken his stuff in, and started unpacking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George?” Dream stood in the doorway, his body blocking the light from coming into the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George ignored him. He continued pulling out clothes and re-folding them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George, it was a joke. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Dream practically pleaded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George continued to ignore him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George, please. I’m sorry! What can I do to make you forgive me?” Dream came into the room, flopping onto the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George wanted to continue ignoring him, but he couldn’t. “Dream, I- I don’t know. I can’t tell you what you need to do to make it up to me. You need to figure that out yourself for it to mean anything.” He hoped Dream wasn’t wondering why this joke was that much more important than any of the other flirtatious jokes that riddled their relationship. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hopes were dashed when Dream said, “Why is this so much bigger of a deal than the other jokes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frantically tried to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t reveal how he felt to Dream. “Maybe because you’ve only known me in person for a couple of hours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, I’m sorry.” Dream sounded truly sorry. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not going to do it. Nope. This isn’t a Disney Channel movie. This is real life. But…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood up, moving over to where Dream was laying on the bed. He held out his arms for a hug. Dream glanced over, then smiling, he sat up and returned George’s hug. “You might need some help unpacking to catch up with the rest of us.” George joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you help me?” Dream joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I have to share a room with you, so if you just make a mess, I have to deal with it too.” George helped Dream unpack, then returning to the main room, they all stood around awkwardly for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So uh, anyone hungry?” Dream decided to break the silence. “I saw the steak restaurant downstairs, and the company </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> paying for this so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the night was awkward, to say the least. No one knew what to say or do, so they all just kind of sat around, thinking. A few times, someone would try to crack a joke, or start a conversation, but the ones that worked quickly fizzled out into silence again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It must have been around midnight when George stood, and said he was going to go to bed. He had no intentions of sleeping, he just wanted to get away from all the awkwardness and such in the other room. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering about the day tomorrow. After at least 45 minutes, he sat up, grabbing his phone. He scrolled through Twitter for a short while, liking and replying to tagged posts. He smiled when he saw a picture of him and Dream at Dream and Fundy’s wedding. The artist had drawn Dream in a long flowing dress, and George was in a crisp, tailored suit. Linked in a post reply was a fanfiction that had been circling around for a while. George clicked it, wanting something to take his mind off the situation he was now in. “Minecraft, but You Can’t Leave”. He felt his stomach drop. This was the last kind of fanfiction he wanted to read. Dream came in, flipping the lights on. George quickly shut the tab on his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he greeted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still awake? I thought you would be asleep.” Dream moved to grab a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t sleep, but I also couldn’t deal with the awkwardness in that room.” George sat up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Dream mumbled while brushing his teeth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No wonder he has such a perfect smile. I completely forgot to brush my teeth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence filled the space again, until Dream climbed into the opposite side of bed, as far on the edge of the mattress as he could get without falling off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“G’night,” Dream said, his face partially buried in his pillow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night Dream.” George said, and hearing Dream start to snore, he figured he was alone. He pulled out his phone again, navigating back to the tab with the fanfiction, and started reading. He was about half way through when he heard Dream stir. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George? Why are you still awake?” Dream sounded groggy and half-asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” was the only answer George could think of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, you’re going to need sleep. Can you at least try to sleep? For me?” Dream was already falling back asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George wanted to protest, to say that sleep was never going to come, but he couldn’t refuse a request like that from Dream. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tired,</span>
  </em>
  <span> his body said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But-</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mind said. He curled up, focusing on his breathing and soon, he found himself asleep. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello again! I told you there would be another chapter today! If someone wants to make a cover (it's a DNF/Christmas fic) tag me on twitter @Eroine19. Also, it took me way too long to figure out how the heck to write things. That's pretty much all the notes I've got, but ok! Byeeeeeee!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Picture yourself logging into a Minecraft server. “ The smartwatch guided him, and Dream focused his mind on picturing what it told him to. Within seconds, he felt a falling sensation and then solid ground underneath his feet. He blinked, opening his eyes to a blinding Sun and warm grass swaying around him. It only took him a moment to find George, his friend staring at a yellow flower.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream was awoken by bright sunlight in his eyes. He groaned, rolling over to see George lying next to him, still asleep. He had a brief moment of panic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why was George here? Where is here?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Then he remembered the trial. He grabbed blindly for his phone, somehow managing not to knock it off the bedside table. Looking at the clock, it read 7:00 AM. He felt something warm brush against him, and looked down to see that George had moved, now way closer to Dream. He tried to control his breathing, shifting away slowly, but George retaliated by moving even closer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why was George doing this? Did he even realize what he was doing? If he did, then why make such a big deal of that joke yesterday?</span>
  </em>
  <span> A suspicion started to creep into Dream’s mind, but he shoved it away, not wanting to get his hopes up. He let George stay, snuggled against him until George tried to put an arm around him. This weirded Dream out too much. He squirmed away, falling out of bed more than anything else. His sudden movement startled George awake, and the smaller boy’s eyes went wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry!” He quickly started making excuses. “I don’t know what I was doing. Did I-?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream brushed himself off. “It’s fine, just startled me a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George let out a breath that Dream assumed he had been holding. “Good. I don’t want to like, be weird or anything. It’s just, hard, you know? We’ve been invited to do some trial of some fancy new technology, and the scenario we’re in is only slightly different from literally every single fanfiction ever. And we both know what happens in those.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream smiled, he wasn’t necessarily opposed to the rest of the fanfictions, but he, like George, didn’t want to seem weird. “I’m going to go shower, we’ll meet up for breakfast at like, 8:30?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” George sounded like he wanted to say something else, but apparently decided against it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream grabbed some clothes, stepping into the bathroom. He turned the shower handle, expecting the water pressure to be almost nil, but to his surprise, it was perfect. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Microsoft must have spent a lot of money on this.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The water was warm and refreshing. Dream preferred to shower in the mornings- it helped him feel like it was a new day, and it got rid of all the dirt and grime from the previous day. He let the water soak his hair, making it fall in long wet strands into his face. His hair, when wet, was more of a caramel brown color that he much preferred to the normal sandy-dirty-blond hair. When he turned the water off and stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The man staring back had the same hair, the same face, even the same smile, but his eyes were filled with a sadness he never knew he had. He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair, making the strands tangle together. He looked at the clothes he had picked out, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a lime green hoodie with his classic smiley-face design printed on the front. He felt so different from the man that designed that hoodie, he felt so different from the man who had picked out those clothes. He just couldn’t figure out why. He stepped out of the bathroom once he was dressed, seeing George on his phone. He appeared to be reading something, but what? Dream wasn’t sure. When he cleared his throat, George almost dropped his phone, fumbling to close whatever he was reading. “What were you reading?” Dream questioned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fanfiction,” George mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you say?” Dream had heard George, but he wanted to hear George say it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fanfiction,” George said again, only slightly louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About?” Dream pushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Us. DreamNotFound.” George blushed furiously as he said it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream felt heat rising to his own cheeks, and tried to tamp it down. “Which one?” Dream didn’t really know the names of any of them, but he was curious as to what kind of DreamNotFound fanfic he was reading. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Minecraft, But You Can’t Leave,” George said it slowly, carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I’m not going to judge you. You don’t have to hide anything from me.” Dream spoke softly, comforting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am a hypocrite. No, I’m not. Yes, you told George he didn’t have to hide anything, but yet you’re hiding how you feel.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh look! It’s 8:30, we should get breakfast.” George spoke in an unnaturally excited tone, as if he was trying to hide from the conversation they had just been having. Dream let it go. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who am I to judge. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He jokingly offered George his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we?” he asked in a mock British accent. George wrinkled his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please never do that again.” He complained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed, and they walked to the nearby Starbucks, discussing video ideas along the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello. Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh hi. Can I get a grande flat white, a venti chai tea latte, no water, a sausage cheddar and egg sandwich, and a cranberry orange scone please?” Dream ordered their food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And can I get a name for that order?” The barista asked, punching things into her computer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream,” Dream was so used to answering with his Minecraft name, that he hadn’t even noticed he responded with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George snickered as they went to sit down and wait for their order. “Dream,” he laughed. “They ask you for your name and you say, ‘Dream’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I’m used to answering with that. Can you blame me?” Dream complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I can blame you.” George shoved him playfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream pouted, making George go get their order when it was ready. George brought back the food and drinks, taking the chai latte and scone for himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you eat that?” Dream questioned. George’s meal was, for the most part, pure sugar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shrugged, his mouth full. “I just do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ate in silence until they finished, where Dream checked his phone and his eyes widened. “We’re going to be late!” He yelled, grabbing what was left of his drink, and racing outside. George followed him, still only halfway done with his tea. They got back to the hotel, panting, as everyone looked at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What- why- you know? Never mind.” Joel said, looking between the two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An Uber pulled up, likely called by either Microsoft, or one of the others. The drive back to Microsoft headquarters was silent, and everyone just kind of stared out the windows. They were greeted by a different woman this time. She was dressed similarly, but had shorter, curly brown hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome back! I know you don’t know me, but follow me back to the room you were shown yesterday.” She set off quickly, and Dream studied her, looking for anything suspicious. She seemed a little too happy, but other than that, everything seemed fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group split into pairs: Lizzie and Joel, Grian and Mumbo, and, of course, Dream and George. Each pair chose a couch, and some flopped down onto it, while some sat down, and some just stood there. A woman in a business suit walked in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” she greeted. “I am Michelle, head of the Digital Reality project. I will be informing you of how it works, and getting you started on the trial.” She held a laptop, and the screen was projected onto a large TV mounted on the wall. A video started playing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Digital Reality project uses a smartwatch to help you learn and master the technique of shifting. Shifting allows you to experience a custom world as if it were real life. You can change many things about the world you experience, from custom game mechanics to how you look simply by thinking of them when you shift. The device will help focus your mind and control the subconscious mind into shifting. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The video ended. The woman walked around, handing out the smartwatches. They looked like a Fitbit watch, streamlined and plain, and had “Microsoft Corporation- DR Project v.1” printed on the screen alongside the Windows logo. The woman typed something on her computer, and said, “To assist in your first time shifting, we highly suggest taking the sedative provided by a medical professional to help your mind reach the proper state.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An anesthesiologist, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was that what they were called?</span>
  </em>
  <span>, entered the room, carrying a tray with several syringes on it. He moved to Grian and Mumbo first, and after a brief conversation, he injected the sedative into their bloodstream. Dream heard George inhale sharply. He turned to look at his friend, surprised at the terrified expression on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like needles,” George exhaled, trying to calm down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream reached over, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Like she said, it’s recommended, but not necessary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shook his head, reaching for Dream’s hand again. “No, I’ll do it, I just won’t like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream held onto his hand as the doctor walked over to George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just to check, you don’t have any allergies to sedatives that you know of? You want to do this?” The doctor was nice, and his voice seemed merry, like that of Santa Clause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked at Dream, who nodded encouragingly before answering. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doctor picked up a syringe, and positioned it over George’s arm, saying, “If you don’t like needles, I recommend you look away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded, closing his eyes and squeezing Dream’s hand so hard it hurt. Dream saw George stiffen, then relax again, his eyes closed, breathing slowly and deeply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doctor moved to Dream. Dream held out his arm, and the doctor repeated the same questions, and when there seemed to be no issue, he pressed the needle into Dream’s skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Picture yourself logging into a Minecraft server. “ The smartwatch guided him, and Dream focused his mind on picturing what it told him to. Within seconds, he felt a falling sensation and then solid ground underneath his feet. He blinked, opening his eyes to a blinding Sun and warm grass swaying around him. It only took him a moment to find George, his friend staring at a yellow flower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The grass. It’s a different color than the grass.” He sounded fascinated. “It’s like when I wore the Enchroma glasses, except this is even brighter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream smiled. It made him happy to see George exploring the world of Minecraft with normal vision. George turned, and spotting Dream, he gasped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so GREEN,” he exclaimed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am?” Dream looked down at himself. He was wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt and a green hoodie that looked exactly like the one he had been wearing. He noticed George was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt with the 404 logo on it. George also had his glasses perched on his head. “Oh, I am!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I need to stop getting distracted by these colors. We’re going to need a place to stay. Should I get wood and you get some food and wool?” George was already running off towards the nearest oak tree, moving faster than most humans could run. Dream looked around, scanning the area for sheep. He could get food and wool from them. He hesitated for a moment, </span>
  <em>
    <span>do I just hit them? With my fists?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He decided to try, and seeing the sheep flash red, he hit it again, and again. On the last hit, he jumped, bringing his fist down on the poor sheep, who evaporated with a few particles leaving some wool and mutton floating on the ground along with holographic green and yellow particles he knew to be XP. He felt the items get sucked into him, and he thought about opening his inventory. Picturing what he had done millions of times on his computer, he was able to pull the food into his hotbar. Closing his inventory, he looked around for more sheep, and found several milling around in the distance. He ran over, killed them all, then came back to find George having made a crafting table and saw he was crafting wooden planks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” he said, throwing George his wool. “Craft two beds, I don’t want to share.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded and Dream saw him place the wool blocks and the planks in the correct spots in the crafting table, and two beds appeared, floating above the workbench. George gave one to Dream, and then started crafting more planks. “Start building a house,” he said, not looking up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream imagined pressing the right-click button on his mouse, and a block appeared where he was looking. He repeated this until there was a fairly large box outline on the ground. He started building up walls, and a flat, boring roof. George had run off at some point, probably to get more resources. Dream glanced at the horizon, where the Sun was starting to get close. Dream placed down his bed inside the house. It was getting dark, and George still wasn’t back. He decided to craft a door to allow them to come and go easier from the house, and he had just placed it when George came running over, panting. He dropped some coal on the ground, and Dream picked it up, crafting some torches to light up the inside of their humble home. George placed his bed, on the opposite side of the room from his, Dream noted. The Sun was sinking below the horizon, and the Moon was rising on the opposite side. Dream crawled into bed, feeling as though he needed sleep. He saw George do the same, then he noticed George shivering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream?” George called. “I’m cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want me to do about it?” Dream replied, trying not to think of how familiar to the fanfictions this sounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me your hoodie.” George responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But then I’ll be cold,” Dream argued. He did have a suspicion as to what would happen next, and his theory was proven when George grabbed his pillow and blankets and made his way over to Dream’s bed. “Hey, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> bed” he complained, not really caring, as George slid under the covers. George didn’t respond, too busy being curled up and still shivering. Dream felt bad, his friend legitimately looked freezing. He decided to try and wrap his arm around George to possibly warm him up. George startled at his touch, but quickly relaxed, snuggling into Dream. Dream let him. He was determined not to let this be a repeat of this morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Dream.” George spoke sleepily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, George.” Dream kept his voice quiet, calm. Once George was asleep, he let himself shift into a slightly more comfortable position, careful as not to disturb George, and let sleep take him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I'm so sorry. I've been updating on Wattpad but not here... whoops. Anyway, enjoy chapter spam. Byeeeeeeeeeeeee!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>That’s what a panic attack looks like? I guess so.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW// Panic attack</p><p>yeah, I don't know much about this, but I did google some details about this so hopefully I at least somewhat accurately portrayed it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George awoke with his face buried in lime green cloth. It took him a moment to realize it was Dream’s hoodie, and Dream had an arm wrapped tightly around him. He blushed, although it was luckily covered by Dream’s hoodie. He considered what to do next. He could squirm away and go make his bed or something, but that would likely end the way the previous morning had. He could, instead, stay where he was until Dream woke up, but who knew how long that would be. His decision was made for him when Dream, rolling over in his sleep, pulled George even closer. There was no way he could move more than an inch without waking Dream. George blushed even more when he realized his head was resting on Dream’s chest, the top of his head nestled under Dream’s chin. He forced himself to take a deep breath, allowing himself to enjoy the moment. George saw Dream blink a couple of times, then his eyes opened and he looked around. He almost instantly noticed the proximity between himself and George, and thankfully, didn’t say anything. He did, however, loosen his grip, allowing George to slide out of the bed and stretch. Dream stood up as well, running a hand through his hair, presumably with the intention of straightening it, but it just ended up tousling it more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cute, </span>
  </em>
  <span>George thought, then instantly felt guilty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>For God’s sake, he’s my best friend. I can’t think that about him!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to go explore a little,” George said, moving to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mkay,” Dream was looking around the small room, searching for something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George left, shutting the door behind him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What day is it? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I entered the game on the 17th, oh right. The needle.</span>
  </em>
  <span> George shuddered at the memory. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream, he let me squeeze his hand, it probably hurt- I was squeezing pretty hard. So, it’s the 18th? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He pulled his thoughts back to the question he asked.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I wonder what I’m doing in real life right now. Maybe I’m curled up against Dream on one of those couches. Wait, I know I’m straight, but then why am I thinking these things? I need to figure out what is going on.</span>
  </em>
  <span> George moaned, burying his face in his hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, I could just log out, and see what I’m doing, maybe change positions, consider my feelings and then come back.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought about opening the menu, and it opened, giving him the normal options except… </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t log out.</span>
  </em>
  <span> George felt his airway start to close up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This… it’s getting more like a fanfiction each moment that passes.</span>
  </em>
  <span> George slumped even more, curling around himself, still struggling to breathe. He started shaking, feeling like the world was compressing, sealing him in. He felt strong arms wrap around him, but he couldn’t see anything other than the missing disconnect button. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream had found George curled up and shaking on the ground. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the boy, comforting him. It didn’t seem like George could see him. So he settled for running his hands through George’s hair, and rubbing a hand up and down his back. “Shhh. It’s okay,” he murmured. George’s eyes seemed to focus on Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream?” he whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It’s okay. Everything is okay.” Dream kept speaking quietly, trying to comfort his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George buried his face in Dream’s hoodie, starting to quietly cry. “We’re stuck here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What- what are you talking about?” Dream opened his pause menu, and finding no disconnect button, he started to panic himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pull it together. You need to for George. You can panic later.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He noticed George was crying, and when their eyes met, George started sobbing, his breath coming in sharp gasps. Dream pulled him close, holding him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is happening?</span>
  </em>
  <span> After a few minutes of him holding George close, he seemed able to pull himself back together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddamn panic disorder.” George cursed. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s what a panic attack looks like? I guess so.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Wait, you never told me that you had a panic disorder before.” Dream was still shocked. His friend- his best friend- had just had a panic attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just didn’t think to mention it. I’m not usually impacted by it when gaming or doing a lot of the things I enjoy. Tests at school sometimes bothered me, but most of the time, it was…” George trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream got the feeling that pushing George wouldn’t be a good move. “Hey, we should take some time to do something fun.” He tried to encourage George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But- we need to do something. That would be a waste of time.” George pinched his eyebrows together, thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do we need to do? We’re stuck here. We might as well enjoy it for the time we get it.” Dream thought back to all of the fanfictions. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great. So, of course, naturally, the fanfictions I enjoyed reading, and we end up stuck in one. It’s not as fun when you’re seeing how it’s impacting the person you care the most about.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to, I don’t know, gather ender pearls, or look for a village or something to advance ourselves in the game. Anything else would be a waste.” George was verbally grasping at straws, desperate, so to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George, happiness is never a waste. Think of the fanfictions, they usually have happy endings, and we have lots of fun in those.” Dream got to his feet, offering his hand to his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George took it, and pulled himself to his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream held out his arms for one more hug. George gratefully stepped into the warm embrace of his friend. “Close your eyes,” he spoke, his breath rustling through George’s hair, like wind rustling through trees in autumn with their bright colors and cool breezes. George forced himself not to blush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream led him by holding onto his hand, guiding him through what George assumed to be a forest from the shadows he could feel across his face. George could feel the shadows grow less and less dark as Dream led him further. He could have sworn he heard seagulls and crashing surf. Dream released George’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can open your eyes now,” the smile was audible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George opened his eyes and gasped.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Well, that happened," Dream laughed.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Brilliant blue waves crashed on a sandy beach that stretched for miles. A dark oak forest was at their backs, the ocean spread out before them. George saw Dream beaming beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This- is incredible!” George was stunned. “How did you find it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I spotted it when I was killing sheep on the first day.” Dream pulled off his hoodie, revealing a black t-shirt that fit him </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> well. “I was thinking we could go swimming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we don’t have swimsuits! Or spare clothes.” George pointed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream ignored him, kicking off his sneakers and putting his socks inside. He pulled off his shirt, and George looked away. “Oooh, Gogy’s being modest.” Dream teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shook his head, pulling his own shirt off. Tossing it on the ground, he yelled, “Last one in the water gets slapped.” He took off running. Dream waited for a moment before starting to run towards the water. He knew George was running as fast as he could, and he let the other boy almost win before pulling ahead at the last moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” George complained. “That’s not fair!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not.” Dream smirked. “I gave you a head start.” He moved towards the other boy, the latter cringing away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t hit me too hard, I’m fragile.” George warned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to hit that pretty face of yours,” Dream lied, trying to catch George off-guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, rea- OWWWWWW.” The last bit was caused by Dream slapping George across the face. George turned away, ignoring Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream started wheezing. “The look on your face,” he gasped. “Priceless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George continued ignoring him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awww, do I need to kiss it to make it feel better?” Dream teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m good, thank you.” George responded. Dream opened his mouth to say something, likely a cocky response, or a flirtatious joke, but he was pulled underwater by an unseen thing. George looked at the spot where Dream had disappeared, fully expecting him to pop up any minute, his hair wet, laughing. But he didn’t. George moved out deeper into the water, searching. As if reflecting his mood, dark gray clouds had started to gather overhead. A distant rumble of thunder could be heard. George felt himself pulled underwater. He tried to kick at the thing, but it was too strong. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Am I going to drown? Has Dream already drowned, dragged down by some creature of the deep?</span>
  </em>
  <span> The thing pulled him close, George still struggling to get away. He felt his lungs scream for air, and kicked upward as hard as he could. He felt the thing propel itself upwards and his head broke the surface. He coughed and hacked, savoring the air he sucked in. The thing let go of him and popped its head above the surface. Dream shook his head like a wet dog, letting droplets of water spray George. He was smirking, not at all looking like someone surely deprived of oxygen. “Dream!” He sputtered. “That’s it, I’m going home.” George swam back toward the shore, leaving Dream where he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream swam after him. “Hey, come back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. But I am curious, how did you hold your breath for that long?” George didn’t look back as he asked Dream the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you come back, I’ll tell you,” Dream bribed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will offer a very generous compromise. Meet me where I am now.” George stopped swimming. Dream swam over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you have a swimming pool, you get good at holding your breath.” Dream’s tone was calm, neutral. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a swimming pool?” George didn’t quite believe that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but I live near the ocean, you get good at swimming.” Dream answered. It had the ring of truth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, that had to be, like, at least five minutes.” George wouldn’t drop it, even though he knew there wasn’t anything else to the story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I scare you?” Dream laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No- fine. Yes, you scared me.” George grumbled. He glanced up at the clouds. They were still threatening rain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Dream and George reached the shore, the clouds were even more menacing. Dream started grabbing the things they had left on the beach. George looked at the sky, fully expecting to be rained on any second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mon," Dream called, already heading back into the dark oak forest. George followed, jogging to catch up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had almost made it home, the house was in sight, when the clouds finally started to rain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Run!" George shouted to Dream, who was already running. They made it inside, significantly wetter that they had been earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, that happened," Dream laughed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream was collapsed on his bed, wearing his slightly damp boxers and his hoodie. He noticed George come into the room, but didn't bother to acknowledge it. He appeared to be carrying two bowls of something, hopefully warm. George set the bowls down on the upturned staircase next to Dream’s bed, and sat down on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Dream asked, slightly intrigued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hot chocolate.” George responded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What. How, Minecraft doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>have </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot chocolate.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “What?” Dream questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I found some cocoa beans and sugar cane when I was getting coal on the first day, and I had a bucket of milk. So I just heated the milk up by putting it on top of the furnace that’s cooking some meat. Then, I stirred in the chocolate and sugar. Now we have hot chocolate!” George smiled, his smile warmer than any hot chocolate or Sun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream accepted the bowl George offered him, tasting it. It was amazing. Rich and creamy, without being too rich or creamy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, do you like it?” George asked, still smiling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream nodded, “It’s amazing. When did you learn how to cook?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I’ve known how to make hot chocolate for most of my life!” George tried to take a sip from Dream’s bowl but Dream turned away, blocking him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have your own!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but, yours probably tastes better!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is that possible? They were both made in the same batch!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but that one’s yours. It automatically makes it better.” George decided to push things a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream laughed. “A ‘Grass is greener on the other side’ situation?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George laughed too. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, in that case, I suppose you can try it.” Dream handed George the bowl, and George took a sip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Once-removed kiss,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought giddily. “And?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s good.” George responded. “Now, I will have yours, and you don’t get any.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Dream complained, but didn’t try to take it back. “Fine, you can have it. I’m going to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, almost drowning me took a lot of energy?” George moved to sit on his bed, which had been moved closer to Dream’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Sorry about that by the way.” Dream let one of his arms cover his eyes, the other sprawled over the bed. “It was funny though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I was dying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been dead mentaly for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“George, what are we going to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are we going to do? We’re stuck here. How do we get out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George considered this for a moment. “Well, uh, in </span>
  <span>Minecraft, But You Can’t Leave</span>
  <span>, you could leave when you died. But in </span>
  <span>New Reality</span>
  <span>, you couldn’t leave. But then, wait, have you heard of that one book series? The one about the kid who gets stuck in Minecraft?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream knew what he was talking about, and racked his brain for the name of it. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Invasion of the Overworld</span>
  </em>
  <span> or something? Wait, no, that’s the first book. Uh, Gameknight999? Yeah, that’s what it was. The mechanics of this world seem very similar to those of that book series.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, how much are you going to bet that the villagers here are conscious?” George had loved that book series. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re not going to be.” Dream spoke to the ceiling. “I’m not going to bet anything. I don’t have anything to bet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George set the bowl down, having finished Dream’s hot chocolate. “It would be cool if they were. Of course, we would have to find a village first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s do that tomorrow.” Dream rolled over, pulling his blankets over himself. “G'night George.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good night, Dream.” George said softly. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What are you doing? We don’t need leaves! Don’t waste our iron on shears! We could make an iron sword with that!” George’s complaints were ignored by Dream as he grabbed the two iron ingots out of the chest, crafting some shears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go look for a village or something. I’ll work on the house.” Dream needed George out of the house for a while. He had an idea to surprise his friend. A few days had passed since George’s panic attack, making it around December 22nd? Dream counted the days mentally, confirming this. It was getting very close to Christmas, and there was no way out that they could see. Dream wanted to make the best of the situation, and building a Christmas tree seemed like the logical first step. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? Are you kicking me out?” George was leaning against the doorframe, holding an apple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Now go do something useful until I decide to un-kick-you-out.” Dream made a shooing motion, gesturing for George to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George stuck his tongue out at Dream, then left, shutting the door behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream waited until George was out of sight before leaving, heading in the opposite direction, looking for a taiga biome. He found the jungle George had mentioned, and decided to grab some jungle wood and more cocoa beans. Maybe they could start a farm? Free chocolate sounded pretty good. He kept moving, pushing his way through the jungle until it yielded to a desert. He decided to turn north and follow the edge of the desert. He came across more plains biome, and was that? He squinted, was that a mega spruce tree peeking over the hill? He ran towards it, cresting the hill. A single mega spruce tree. No more in sight. Dream cursed. He’d have to make due with just the one tree. He started shearing the leaves off first, then once he had collected all of them, he chopped down the tree, swinging his iron axe into the bark with a satisfying </span>
  <em>
    <span>crunch</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He picked up the fallen logs, and set off back home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George wandered northwest, between the dark oak forest and the mountains in the north, giving him way too much time to think. When Dream had kicked him out, he didn’t seem mad, but instead, he sounded… mischievous? Like he was planning something. George smiled, he knew that when Dream really tried at something, it would blow away your wildest dreams and replace them with even wilder realities. He kept walking, scanning the terrain for any hint of a structure. Finding nothing, he returned to his thoughts. When Dream had been playing in the water and dragged George down, he could have sworn he heard, “I love you”, but he had concluded that his oxygen-deprived brain had been playing tricks on him. Now, he reconsidered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sound gets distorted underwater. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Yeah, but you can usually make out what someone says.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>You weren’t getting enough oxygen, you were hallucinating.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Maybe, but why do I care so much?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>You love him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “No. No way. I won’t say I’m in love.” George quoted the famous song from Hercules. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And what about when you were cuddling in bed? How do you explain that as ‘straight’?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “It was mutually agreed as a platonic interaction!” George felt silly for arguing with himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you really going to lie to yourself- and Dream- about this?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Yes,” the words stuck in George’s throat, but he didn’t know what else to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream reached their now much bigger house. They had spent much of the previous few days working on it and expanding. It turned out George was a fairly good builder. Better than Dream at least. It had two stories, a simple oak log frame and A-Frame roof. Dream surveyed the area outside, looking for the best place to build the Christmas tree. He couldn’t find a good location, so he went inside to see if there was space there. After looking around, he came to the conclusion he would have to shuffle some things around, but it could fit. He pulled out a pickaxe and mined the furnace and smoker they had sitting against one wall, moving them next to the staircases they called a table and chairs. That cleared one wall of the corner he wanted to set up the tree in. The other corner was taken up by bookshelves. George had insisted on having the bookshelves. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“In case we need them for enchanting ever,” he had said. “Plus, they look cool.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream had thought this to be ridiculous, they were never going to end up enchanting. If they could read the books, perhaps they could serve as entertainment, but they couldn’t. George still insisted on them, and Dream couldn’t bring himself to take them down. Until now. He swung his axe, breaking the shelves into a pile of books floating above the floor, where he picked them up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I could put the shelves near George’s bed, since he’s the one who likes them. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He moved to the crafting table, recrafting the books into new bookshelves. He put the shelves up, this time in the bedroom, and was about to walk away when a book caught his eye. It was different from the usual Minecraft books, this one being a deep red color. It had a leather strap wrapped around the messy bundle of pages and leather. A feather quill and an ink pot rested next to the spot where the book was slid onto the shelf. Dream reached for it, hesitating slightly right before grabbing it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s not a normal part of Minecraft bookshelves. What if it’s something I shouldn’t be seeing?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ignoring his better judgement, he grabbed the book. He opened it, then immediately slammed it shut when he read the first page. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, Dream. Yes, I know you’re reading this. I knew when I wrote it, you would find it at some point. So, please, DON’T READ FURTHER. I don’t want to hide anything from you, but well, some things need to be kept private. You of all people probably know what I mean. So, if you are still here, please put this back where you found it and forget it exists. It’s better for you anyway.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George&lt;3</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream put the book back on the shelf, collapsing onto the bed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>When had George had the time to write this? What- what was on those pages? Why had he signed his name with the heart after it if he knew Dream would read it?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dream thought of the way it was written. Not pixelated like everything else in this world. It was neat printing, with a touch of inconsistency in spacing. Dream felt his heart flutter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wha- I was thinking about WRITING. HANDWRITING, to be specific. It’s just George’s writing. Oh. Oh no. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George glanced at the Sun. It was headed towards the horizon. “I should go back,” he said aloud, to whom? He didn’t know, nor did he care. He turned around and started walking back the direction he had come. Pulling it from his inventory into his hotbar, George rolled the apple he had taken in his hand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where was it, where throwing an apple meant something? And what did it mean? </span>
  </em>
  <span>George couldn't remember. The Sun was sinking closer to the horizon at an alarming rate. He picked up his pace, moving quicker. He didn't want to be out at night if he could help it. The fanfictions had taught him that bad things usually ensued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Sun's last rays were just peeking over the horizon when George spotted the house start to come into view. He put on a burst of speed, stumbling inside just as the Sun's light disappeared and mobs started to spawn. He set the apple down on the table, noticing that both the furnace and the bookshelves had been moved. Climbing the stairs, he entered his and Dream's bedroom. Dream was slumped over, his head in his hands. George moved to sit next to him, on </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> bed. He wrapped an arm around Dream's shoulders and Dream looked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's wrong?" George remembered when he had a panic attack. He was now comforting Dream the same way Dream had comforted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- I don't know." Dream drew in a shaky breath. "That's the problem. I don't know what's wrong, why I am- why I'm feeling this way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George moved behind Dream, starting to massage Dream's shoulders. He remembered his mother always giving him a back massage when he was feeling sad, or scared. Mimicking her gentle but firm touch, he quickly found that Dream carried most of his tension in his upper back and neck. He started pressing his fingers in, finding the knots of tension and forcing them to release. At some point, George wasn't sure when, Dream had laid down, and he was now snoring softly. Not enough to be disruptive, but instead a soft, almost calming sound that carried reassurance of someone being there. George looked at Dream's sleeping face, his hair falling into his eyes, a faint smile, as if he was dreaming of something pleasant. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why does he have to be so cute? </span>
  </em>
  <span>George immediately scolded himself. Glancing back, he almost resisted the urge to brush the hair out of his friend's eyes, but failed. As carefully as possible, he lightly brushed a few strands of hair out of Dream's closed eyes. At his touch, Dream stirred slightly, and George froze. Thankfully, Dream didn't wake up, instead settling into what appeared to be an even deeper sleep. George settled back into his position, curled up beside Dream. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t even try to explain that as no homo. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He lay there, his gaze staring at the ceiling above, until sleep took him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream awoke, in a position he didn’t remember falling asleep in. He cursed silently, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why did he do that to himself? </span>
  </em>
  <span>It had gotten him into some… well, uncomfortable situations before. He surveyed his situation. He had an arm wrapped around George, whose face was currently buried in Dream’s shoulder. Removing his arm from around George, he was able to slip away, climbing downstairs. He moved to where the furnaces used to be, then remembered that he had moved them to make room for the… “The Christmas tree!” He whispered, intensely. Pulling the logs into his hand, he placed them into a stack. The tree was very small, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Charlie Brown Christmas</span>
  </em>
  <span> small, but still small. He willed the leaves into his hand, and they appeared. Dream started placing them around the logs, forming a vaguely conical shape. He stepped back, surveying it. The tree looked like it had been built by someone who only somewhat knew what they were doing. Dream nodded his approval. It would do. Moving over to the smoker, he grabbed some raw pork chops and started cooking them. The food in the game that required cooking also required preparation, so you would have to flip the meat half-way through. Dream was just removing the last pork chop from the pan when George sat down at the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” George seemed to be in his inventory, as he was staring at the space in front of him, despite there being nothing there. Dream sauntered over to the table, handing George the warm pork chop. George didn’t answer Dream’s ‘good morning’. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What? Did I do something? I mean, what I remember from last night was George giving me a back massage, I was stressed. Then I fell asleep, and that’s the end of the story, right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George closed his inventory, taking the pork chop silently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you notice the Christmas tree?” Dream said. He wanted to hear George’s voice, if only to know that George didn’t hate him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George glanced over at the tree in the corner. He couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, where did it come from?” The question wasn’t serious. He knew Dream had put it there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm, I wonder.” Dream teased lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you put it there. Admit it.” George continued the teasing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw man, I was hoping you would believe me when I said it was Christmas magic.” Dream sat down across from George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s to say you aren’t Christmas magic?” George’s tone was soft, teasing in a different way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream felt his heart start racing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did George just go from ignoring me to flirting? That seems… odd. I didn’t know human behavior worked that way.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Umm…” He knew he was blushing furiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George smirked. “Tongue-tied are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream recovered his brain. “No, just-” he faltered. A witty comeback failed him, so he sighed. “Fine. Why do you care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George smirked more. “No reason. I’m going to keep looking for a village. You wanna come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Dream kept his tone cool. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No sense reading into things that don’t exist.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s get going! We haven’t got all day!” George smiled, grabbing Dream’s hand and practically dragging him out the door. Dream let himself be dragged out the door, smiling like an idiot the entire time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George glanced back at Dream. They had been traveling for a while, and neither had said a single word. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I mean, what do I even talk about?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “So, uh, I was wondering, it’s been rather quiet. What’s your favorite song?” He cringed internally. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That was cheesy as all hell.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dream hummed thoughtfully, "I rather like Heat Waves, but since it's Christmas, I would say that I like Carol of the Bells, or All I Want For Christmas is You. What about you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George thought for a moment, "Well, Hotel California is a good song, kind of ironic, considering our situation."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream frowned, "Isn't that the one that goes like, </span>
  <b>
    <em>‘Welcome to the Hotel California, such a lovely place, such a lovely face, you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!’</em>
  </b>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s breath abandoned him. All the times Dream pretended to sing poorly, like his ridiculous parody of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Under the Sea</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he could actually sing. His voice was smooth, and had a refined yet wild quality. "Yeah, but you mixed up the lyrics. The last two phrases come at the very end whereas the rest of what you sang was the chorus."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream smiled, George had stopped walking, and now he had caught up. He had seen the way George reacted when he heard Dream sing. "I take it from your expression that you didn't know I could sing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you just haven't given me any reason to think you could."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you like it? My singing, I mean." Dream's voice was barely a whisper. It held almost a longing, as if he really wanted George to say he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded. "It’s really good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait, am I going crazy, or is that a village?" Dream pointed to the top of a chimney, and George saw what he was talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think that's a village, which is good. It's almost night." George glanced at the Sun, seeing how close it was to the horizon. It didn’t slip past his judgement how Dream had changed the subject after he answered, as if giving himself something else to focus on while he processed the information. They made their way into the village, finding quite a few hay bales and some apples. While George checked through the village houses, checking for loot, Dream slipped away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream mulled over a lot of thoughts that had been filling his head lately. He walked around, and when he spotted a cat that looked surprisingly similar to Patches, he pulled out a fish from his inventory. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please only take one fish to tame,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dream prayed as he held out the fish to the wild cat. She, (Dream had decided the cat was a she), padded over slowly, sniffing the fish before nipping at it. She purred and started rubbing against Dream’s leg. Dream scooped her up, looking around for George. He spotted the smaller boy coming out of a house near the end of the row. He set off towards him, and George spotted him, walking over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You get anything go- oh. You got a cat?” George started to ask the question, then seeing the cat curled up in Dream’s arms, stopped. He reached out, stroking her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Her name is Patches the Second.” Dream scratched her under her chin, eliciting a purr. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s loving this. So much attention.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He smiled. “We should probably go to sleep. I’m honestly surprised we haven’t been att-” he was cut off by a sharp pain in his hip. Looking down, he saw a crude arrow sticking out of his left side, already dripping with blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream!” George cried out, catching him as he started to fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream felt light headed, the sight of his own blood making him woozy. His hand was covered in the warm, slightly sticky liquid. He felt George struggle under his weight, but couldn’t find the energy to stand on his own. He felt like Kili in </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Hobbit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hit with an arrow in his hip that was doing more damage than an arrow should have. His vision was starting to go dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream! Hold on, you’ll be fine. Stay with me.” George tried to drag Dream to one of the houses, but only managed to move a few feet before panting with exertion. “Help me, if you can move, or at least try to take some of your weight off me, you’re heavy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream forced himself to focus on George’s voice, ignoring the blood and the sharp pain from where the arrow was buried in his side. He pulled himself up, using George for balance and to support some of his weight. They limped along, making it to the nearest house. Dream collapsed on the floor. “Get Patches!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>* </span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George looked outside. The cat was sitting in the middle of the road, completely calm despite the amount of mobs surrounding her. He stepped outside, telling Dream he would be right back. He made it to Patches with no incident, and scooping her up, he started running back. He felt an arrow narrowly miss his arm, the feathered shaft passing so close to his bicep, he could feel the crudely made arrow’s feathers brush his skin. He sped up, not wanting to get hit. Maybe five steps from the door, he saw a skeleton creeping up behind him. He lunged, making it inside and shutting the door just as the skeleton fired, the arrow hitting the solid wood door with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Dream was pacing the room, looking agitated. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What was that about?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream had pulled the arrow from his hip, a hiss of pain escaping as he did so. He grabbed a piece of bread from his inventory, forcing himself to choke down the slightly stale and hard piece. He felt his wound heal over, until it was as if it was never there. He stood, pacing around the small house, occasionally stealing glances out the door. He was on his twenty-first lap around the room when he saw the door open out of the corner of his eye. George lunged in, shutting the door before an arrow could hit him, instead hitting the door, likely splintering the other side of the door. George held Patches, the cat seemingly not even slightly concerned at the mobs outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry George, all of this is my fault.” Dream didn’t know why he blurted this, but once he did, everything came spilling out. “I got us stuck in this game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll get us out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I almost drowned you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a prank, you didn’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made you get Patches from outside, and you could have gotten hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made the choice to get her, and you didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>make</span>
  </em>
  <span> me, you asked me to and I chose to accept the risk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t argue that I didn’t get us stuck here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if it was your fault, and it is just as much my fault for not doing more research beforehand, even if it was, I trust you, Dream. I trust you to get us out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream took Patches from George, George’s fingers brushing against his hand for a moment too long. He pulled away sharply. “I- I’m going to bed.” He didn’t intend for it to come out as sharply as it did. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why was that such a problem? He just brushed against my hand, and now my heart is pounding and I can’t think stra- oh shit. Nonononononono. I can’t- I can’t- i can’t be in </span>
  </em>
  <span>love </span>
  <em>
    <span>with my best friend. I can’t. But I am. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream pulled the blankets tighter around him, feeling George slip into the bed beside him. He wanted so desperately to pull George in, to pull him close and never let go, but he couldn’t. At least not for now, and maybe not ever. With those realizations in his mind, he was amazed to be able to fall asleep, but his mind was far from done torturing him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW//Nightmare/Character Death (don't worry, they're only mostly dead)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream was floating in midair, like a ghost, or a player in spectator mode, watching the scene unfold. He saw himself, and George, walking together through an unfamiliar forest. He noticed how his dream-self didn’t hesitate to take George’s hand in his own when their hands brushed against one another. He also saw an enderman, lurking in the shadows, its purple eyes filled with an evil glee, like a villain who’s master plan is unfolding and they know they’ve already won. His dream-self pointed at the enderman. Dream couldn’t hear what he said, but he assumed he was telling George he would go kill the enderman. Drifting closer, he watched himself walk to where the enderman lurked, sword at the ready. He watched himself look up, looking the enderman in the eyes, provoking him. His dream-self’s eyes blazed purple for a moment, then returned to their normal forest green color. Without even bothering to kill the enderman, he turned and walked back over to George. Without warning, he watched himself tackle George to the ground, pinning him down. Dream heard George laugh nervously. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream? What are you doing?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His dream-self didn’t answer, instead standing up while still keeping George pinned to the ground. A growing feeling of dread took hold of Dream’s heart. He knew whatever happened next wouldn’t be good. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream?” George’s voice grew more panicked. “Dream, what are you doing?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The thing that looked so much like himself drew their sword, holding it above George’s chest. “Good bye, George. This is for all the pain you caused me.” It plunged the sword down into George’s chest, piercing his heart. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George’s eyes went wide, and he choked out his last words, “I trusted you, Dream."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He involuntarily drifted forward, until he could see that where the blade had pierced George’s heart, there were two halves separated by a jagged crack. The right side was George’s favorite shade of light blue, the same shade as his shirt, now stained with blood. The left half- Dream's breath threatened to choke him- the left half was lime green, like Dream's hoodie. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Nooooooooo!" Dream half screamed, half sobbed. "No!" He felt the tears streaming down his face and he didn't try to stop them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He was shaking, still sobbing, but his face was now buried in something blue and warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shhhhhhh," a comforting voice whispered. "It was just a nightmare. You're fine now." When Dream recognized the voice to be George’s voice, he started crying even more. George wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. Dream let himself cry, until he had no more tears left to cry. Instead, he was left with dry, heaving sobs. George held him closer, and started playing with Dream’s hair, twisting each one of the soft strands around his fingers. When Dream had calmed down enough, George asked him the question he didn't want to anwer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dream, you had a nightmare," George said, "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to, but it can sometimes help to talk about it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream took a deep breath, “I- I killed you.” It wasn’t a lot, but he felt George shift, pulling him even closer. He continued, “and the last thing you said,” he paused to swipe at the tears now once again falling. “The last thing you said was ‘I trusted you, Dream.’” He felt George reach out and gently brush a tear from his cheek, his fingertips warm and soft. He savored the touch for the short time it lasted, looking up at George’s face, Dream’s bright green eyes meeting George’s dark brown ones. Dream saw George's gaze shift down to his lips, and he stopped breathing. A soft pink blush bloomed on George’s cheeks, his usually pale skin becoming pink. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No way George feels the same way. He's said he's straight. It's got to be a misunderstanding, or I'm imagining things. </span>
  </em>
  <span>George looked away, and Dream let out the breath he had been holding. He closed his eyes, hoping his sleep would be more peaceful now. Maybe it was the comfort of George’s arm wrapped tightly around him, or maybe it was the giddy hope that George loved him, but when Dream drifted back into sleep, he slept peacefully through the rest of the night.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George wasn't able to sleep after Dream’s nightmare. He kept thinking, his mind overflowing with thoughts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream's lips looked so soft, almost teasing me to kiss them. Fine, maybe now I'll admit it. I love him. But does he love me? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The battle between the two sides raged all night, while Dream slept beside George, occasionally shifting, or softly snoring. So it was no wonder that while they were walking back towards home, George yawned several times. After about three or four yawns, Dream noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you sleep last night after I woke you? You look and sound exhausted."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George yawned again, "No." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Dream apologized, but George waved him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's fine. I had some time to think about some… things." George hesitated, hoping Dream wasn't about to ask him what kind of things he had been thinking about. To his relief, Dream didn't ask, instead continuing to walk, likely preoccupied with his own thoughts. They walked through the dark oak forest again, occasionally catching glimpses of the beach and the shining waves. Patches squirmed in Dream’s arms, jumping out and landing on the ground. George laughed, kneeling down and petting her. Dream laughed as well, and kept walking, occasionally glancing back to check that Patches was still following. Eventually, the roof of their humble house came into view, just within render distance. George sprinted back to the house, racing upstairs and climbing into bed, pulling his blanket close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow George. It’s like what, 5 o’clock? Are you already going to sleep?” Dream laughed, coming into the room only a few minutes after George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I’m tired. I ran here because I was cold, and tired.” George hid his smirk with his pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. To be fair, I did wake you up last night. Do you want me to help keep you warm?” He teased George, enjoying every moment of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without waiting for an answer, Dream climbed under the covers, snuggling into George. Dream rested his chin on George’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He's spooning me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> George thought distantly. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, George enjoyed it more than he was going to show.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You like this, don't you Georgie." Dream spoke, using his nickname for George. "You like cuddling."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George couldn’t deny it, "yes, it's nice. It's nice knowing there's someone there. It's nice knowing someone cares."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why did you have to rhyme?" Dream groaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am a natural born poet." George smirked. "Shakespeare who? What about GeorgeNotFound." </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or DreamNotFound.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed softly. "Maybe if you had two brain cells instead of one, you could actually do something with that," he coughed, indicating he was being sarcastic. "'Gift' of yours."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George swatted at Dream's hand. "It's not like you have any more brain cells than I do. In fact, I'm fairly sure that you only have </span>
  <em>
    <span>half</span>
  </em>
  <span> a brain cell."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought you were tired. Obviously not too tired to tease me." Dream said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am tired, but it's kind of hard to sleep when you're talking so much." George retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, maybe if I talk about boring enough things, you’ll fall asleep. If not, then it must be my voice keeping you awake." Dream started rambling about math, explaining the Pythagorean Theorem, the Base-angles theorem, the vertical angles theorem, and all the rest of the theorems George had long forgotten. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dream, can you please shut up?" George complained after Dream started explaining vectors and how they related to translations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So it's my voice?" Dream stopped rambling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George decided to play with Dream a little. Quoting one of the best-known DreamNotFound fanfictions ever, he said, "Your voice, it's like fire. It burns."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream caught on, replying with, "I burn you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You melt me." George poured his heart into that line, knowing Dream would see it as acting, rather than an actual confession. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, well now that we've got our fill of Heat Waves, you should go to sleep." Dream snuggled closer, bringing him and George together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kay, good night Dream." George closed his eyes, waiting for Dream's response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good night Georgie."</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George awoke on a sandy beach, the sun in his eyes, the waves crashing again and again on the shore. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"How did you fall asleep on a beach?" He recognized the voice, but couldn't place it. "Especially with me here." The flirtatious joke made George able to place the voice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Leave me alone, Dream." George blinked, his vision sharpening into focus. Dream was leaning over him, blond hair in his eyes, a wide smile covering his face. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"But I don't wanna." Dream playfully pouted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Dream," George said, like a mother scolding her child. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What? Hey, we should totally build a sand castle." Dream had all the excitement of a five year old. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George let Dream lead him over to the shoreline, where the sand was wet and packed down from the waves crashing against the beach. Dream started scooping handfuls of wet sand and piling them on top of one another in a massive pile. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey George, have you ever built a sand castle?” Dream asked without looking up from the castle taking shape. He was working on building a strong foundation, smoothing the sand into a hard slab to perch the towers on top of. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, a lot of the beaches in England are rocky, not sandy like this.” George grabbed more sand at Dream’s request. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, that’s sad. I remember spending hours at the beach, building sand castles. My sister would always come over and wreck them, but I had so much fun building them.”  Dream sat back, surveying his now finished castle. “And?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t understand how you did that. There was like, a pile of sand, and now there’s a castle.” George studied the castle, looking for a single flaw. He found none. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If I wanted to be honest, I would say, ‘Lots of practice’, but since I want to brag a little, ‘I’m just naturally talented’.” Dream laughed, sliding over to sit next to George on the sand, looking out at the waves. George leaned his head on Dream’s shoulder, partially to see if he could, partially so he could relax. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is rather cliche, isn’t it. We’re just watching the sunset on the beach, together.” George said, hoping he hadn’t ruined the moment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, but I like it. I like being here with you.” Dream wrapped an arm around George’s waist. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George forgot how to breathe. They were so close, and Dream had just said… “I like being here with you too.” he didn’t realize he had said it aloud. Dream’s smile spread even wider. He reached up, gently cupping George’s cheek. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wait, he’s going to kiss me. HE’S GOING TO KISS ME. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream brought their faces together, no more than an inch apart. George’s breathing was uneven, and he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against Dream’s. The sensation that filled George’s body was similar to that of biting into a muffin and getting a juicy blueberry bursting with flavor, if that taste was a feeling. The kiss didn’t last long, but it was perfect. Dream’s lips were soft and warm, his hands strong yet gentle, his arms wrapped around George, holding him close. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George woke with a start, his eyes flitting around the room as he tried to figure out where he was. Once he had figured out that he was in his bed at home, the first thing he noticed was that Dream was gone. He pushed himself up, checking that Dream was fully gone before grabbing the journal he had made on the second day they were stuck in the game. Flipping past the first page, he found an empty page. Dipping the feather pen in the ink jar, he began to write. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>December 25th, 2020</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As I wrote the date for today, I realize that it is Christmas Day. I wish I could see my family, if only to let them know that I am alright. It’s not that I mind spending Christmas with Dream, but Christmas in Minecraft is well, not what I ever imagined I would have happen. Speaking of Dream, I had a dream about him last night. Wait, that’s actually kind of funny. A dream about Dream? Anyway, I uh, </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I kissed him</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George crossed out the words, not feeling comfortable having them casually written there. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The issue with it is that I enjoyed it? I don’t think it’s healthy to have dreams about kissing your best friend. We were on a beach, and we built a sand castle. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George paused writing for a bit. Flipping to the next empty page, he began to sketch. Quick strokes becoming walls and towers with flying flags. A splattering of ink becoming wet sand on a beach. Once he was satisfied with his drawing of the sand castle, with a little artistic flair, he resumed writing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To be more accurate, Dream built a sand castle and I watched. He looked exactly like he does in real life, but he looks so natural and at home at the beach. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George once again started sketching. He made sure to capture the gleam in Dream’s eyes, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the spray of freckles across his face. He was debating whether to draw himself in the picture as well when he heard Dream come in. He didn’t bother to shut the book, instead leaving it open to the pages he had been sketching on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you’re awake! Merry Christmas!” Dream moved to stand in front of George. He glanced at the journal which George was holding. “Wait, is that me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s amazing! How do you even do that? Like seriously, you have a feather and some black ink, and yet it looks like a photograph of me.” Dream looked at the page again, then back at George. “Is it done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was considering adding myself in there, but I don’t know. Maybe.” George added some lines, shaping Dream’s hair more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You totally should! And then it can commemorate our time here!” Dream sounded so excited. Then, more timidly, he asked, “Can I keep it when you’re done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was flattered; he’d never seen his art as anything special, or worth keeping. “Sure.” He started working on adding it, struggling with where to put himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream pointed to the picture, right next to himself. “You should put yourself there.” George had drawn Dream from a slight angle, on the left side of the page, so there was space for George next to Dream, although it would be tough to fit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George started sketching, adding his facial features first. He started on his eyes, but was interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes are larger, and you have longer eyelashes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked at his drawing. He was drawing himself the way he saw it, but it had been a while since he last saw his reflection. Deciding to go with Dream’s input, he fixed those details. It made him look more feminine than he would have liked. “Like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, now it looks more like you.” Dream sat beside George, and watched him draw, without saying anything besides occasionally correcting the finer details of George’s face. Eventually, George finished his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There. Is this good?” He moved to tear the page from his journal, but Dream reached out to stop him. He didn’t know what came over him, but he grabbed the pen from George, adding himself wrapping an arm around George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There. Now it’s perfect.” He smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked at him, confused, for a minute, but then carefully tore the page out, handing it to Dream. “Hope you like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream let George leave the room, leaving him to sit down on his bed. He stared at the picture George drew. George had drawn Dream smiling widely, but drew himself with an almost- </span>
  <em>
    <span>is that a longing expression?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He sighed, and placed the drawing under his pillow. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That is a terrible place to put it, but I can’t think of anywhere better, so it’ll stay there.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dream stood up, walking down the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merry Christmas, Dream! You kind of didn’t give me a chance to say it after you did, so I’m saying it now.” George was cooking something in the smoker, but Dream didn't know and didn't care what. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream sat down, "Do I talk too much?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmmm? No, not really. You just jump topics a lot." George pulled the food out of the smoker. "Here, take this chicken."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream took the chicken that was floating above the ground. "The last time you said that, you also dragged me behind a pillar in a church and kissed me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed. "Well, we aren't in a church, so you don't have to worry about that happening."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You could still kiss me." An uncomfortable silence followed this statement. George ate silently, all but ignoring Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wish I could see my family." George spoke out of nowhere. "I mean, it's Christmas, and that's the time of year to celebrate with those you care about."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream nodded. He understood what George meant. "I'm sure my sister's pretty happy I'm not there. I still wish I was though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not that I don't care for you, but family is family." George sighed, taking the last bites of his chicken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I get it.” Dream finished his last bites of chicken. “But hey, we’re stuck here, so we might as well make the most of it. Speaking of which, I actually have a present for you.” He ran upstairs,, shuffling around under his bed until he found the hidden barrel. Opening it, he found what he was looking for. Pulling the sleek, black record disc from the barrel along with the jukebox to play it, he made his way back downstairs. George was standing, holding something behind his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kind of… got you a present too.” George blushed. “Do you want to go first? Or what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream smiled. “No, you can go first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George approached, timidly. “It took me a long time to make this, hopefully you like it?” His voice raised at the end, like he was questioning what he had said. He brought out the thing he had been hiding behind his back. It was a diamond axe, not only that, but it was also enchanted. Dream took it, somehow knowing it was enchanted with sharpness V and unbreaking III. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t magical weapons supposed to have names?” Dream thought back to all the stories with named weapons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, they often do, but I wasn’t sure what to name it. Also, I may or may not have had no levels to name it." George said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmmm, maybe Daydream? Or Dreamsong. Not sure which." Dream wished he had his phone so he could find one of those name-generator things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oooh! I like Daydream." George replied, clapping his hands together excitedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well then, Daydream it is." Dream smiled. "Now can I give you your present?" He didn't wait for an answer, stashing the jukebox box in his inventory and whipping out the disc. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked at it. "Isn't that Cat?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream tried to hide his smirk. "I don't know. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Play it. We'll see." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, we don't have a jukebox."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I saw that you had one, but you moved it to your inventory."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can we listen to it later?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dream, why are you being so weird?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because I can be." Settled with the knowledge that he had won the argument, Dream continued. "Wanna climb a mountain just so we can have a snowball fight?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hell yeah!" George ran outside, turning north towards the mountains. Dream grabbed George’s hand, letting the smaller boy drag him along. They were both smiling like maniacs, jumping and running until they reached the top. George let out a gasp as he reached the top. "Look at the view! Dream, look! You can see everything!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream smiled at his friend's obvious excitement. "It's pretty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George bit his lip, keeping himself from saying it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's not the only pretty thing up here.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Dream ignored George’s sudden discomfort, instead picking up a handful of snow, sloppily packing it into a ball. He aimed at George, whose back was turned to Dream. He threw the snowball, landing against George's back with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump</span>
  </em>
  <span>. George whirled around, playful rage in his eyes. Not taking his eyes off Dream, George leaned down, scooping up a handful of snow, packing it into a much neater ball than the one Dream had thrown. He threw it, hitting Dream squarely in the face. Dream blinked, wiping the snow from his face before launching himself at George, grabbing handfuls of snow and dropping them down his neck, over his head, and into his shoes. George yelped whenever the frozen liquid touched his skin. He tried to drop snow on Dream, but the taller man always seemed to avoid it. George was cold and shivering from the snow, his cheeks pink from the cold. Dream noticed, and moved over, wrapping his arms around him. George leaned in, extracting warmth from Dream. George had stopped shivering, but didn't leave Dream’s embrace. Dream took this opportunity to be a bit cruel. He let go of George, pushing him backwards into the snow. George flailed, but ended up falling on his back in the snow. He tried to get up, but Dream was on him in a second, pinning him into the snow, making sure he couldn't move more than an inch in any direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"D- Dream-" George stammered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes Georgie?" Dream asked sweetly and innocently, although George knew very well it was far from that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get off me." George wined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't think I will. I mean, I'm quite comfortable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dream! It's cold." George wriggled under Dream, but was unable to escape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ll stay here for a while.” Dream teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Dream please!” George sounded strangled, almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream rolled off George, standing, attempting to brush the snow from his clothes before offering George a hand to help him up. George hesitantly took it, worrying that Dream would just push him into the snow again. Dream’s grip was steady and strong. He pulled George up, glancing at him for only a moment, but every detail was seared into his mind. His dark hair fell into his eyes, lightly dusted with white powder-y snow. His eyes were framed by long, dark eyelashes that had a few snowflakes caught in them. His eyes themselves were a golden honey brown, a mix of honeycomb and dark chocolate swirled together in a deliciously sweet color, pure gold flakes like 24 karat gold jewelry mixed in. Dream could definitely find himself getting lost in George’s eyes, staring into them for hours, forgetting the rest of the world. His lips were light pink and soft, perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Dream, I get that your daydream is probably better than this world, but I’m starting to feel ignored.” George poked Dream, both literally and figuratively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream blushed. “Can we just go home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed. “Sure.” They made their way back down the mountain, hands occasionally brushing past each other. They reached the bottom, and George’s hand found its way to Dream’s, intertwining their fingers. Dream’s breath caught, </span>
  <em>
    <span>is my hand sweaty? Am I squeezing his hand too hard? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As if George could sense his thoughts, he laughed gently. “Relax. It’s fine, Dream.” He accompanied this with a gentle squeeze of his hand, which mirrored itself, squeezing Dream’s heart. Dream forced himself to relax. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He repeated over and over and over in his mind. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It all comes out...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George walked, holding Dream’s hand, towards their home. He was still shivering from the cold, and the position Dream and he had been in up on the mountain. He had decided while sketching Dream earlier that he was going to confess to Dream today. The only question still in his mind was, how? He had considered watching the sunset together, but that seemed to cliche. He had considered just kissing Dream by their Christmas tree, but that seemed too assuming. He considered just mumbling it while they were falling asleep, so as to have Dream question whether he had really heard it. None of these ideas seemed right. He let out an internal sigh- he’d deal with it later, and if he didn’t come up with a plan, he'd just improvise. They stopped walking, George realized, and were now standing hand in hand in front of their door. Dream turned to face him, eyes scanning his face. George struggled to remember how to breathe when Dream’s gaze flicked to his lips, then back up to his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s going to kiss me. He’s going to do it here, now. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream looked suddenly nervous, and he pulled away, going inside, leaving George standing outside, wondering what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> just happened. George recovered his senses, and walked inside. He shivered, walking up the stairs, already picturing how warm and soft his blankets would be. He spotted Dream sitting on his bed, either in his inventory or lost in his thoughts. George warred with himself for a moment before going to sit next to Dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Dream, I’m cold.” George complained, eyeing Dream’s hoodie. He wanted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Georgie, but I can’t help you.” Dream was still gazing blankly in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want your hoodie.” George held his breath, hoping he hadn’t just made things weirder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream glanced over at him, smirking. “You do, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Now gimme.” George reached for Dream’s hoodie, only being stopped by Dream gently grabbing his wrists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay okay, I’ll give it to you. No need to get touchy.” He scolded George, but his face was covered in a smile. He pulled off his hoodie, throwing it to George, who caught it with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George tugged the lime green fabric over his head, instantly feeling the warmth seeping into his cold body. Poking his head out, he saw Dream silently laughing. “What?” He asked crossly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. Just,” he picked up George’s hands before dropping them. “You’ve got sweater paws.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George blushed. “I didn’t ask to be so small.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed. “You’re perfect, but yes. You are also small.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s heart practically stopped. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re perfect.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Wait, do you mean that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mean what?” Dream was blushing also.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with fear, but also hope. “You said that I’m perfect. Do you mean that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream raised a hand to George’s face, cupping his cheek. “Of course I do.” He brought their faces together, leaving them only one or two inches apart. “I absolutely mean it.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Your smile is so genuine, it just lights up any room you are in. Your eyes, are by far the </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Your laugh brightens my day every time I hear it. And your personality, is the best part. Your kind, and funny, and smart, and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was cut off by George pressing his lips against Dream’s. Everything- the pain, the worry, the anger- that had been there since they entered the game, disappeared, replaced with one feeling. Love. Neither knew what to do with their hands, so they just kind of left them wherever they were, not caring about the awkwardness. Dream pulled away after a short time, but not too short as to make George possibly think he was rejecting him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I literally just told him everything I love about him, and if I had pulled away any sooner he still would have thought I didn’t like him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I love you, George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it was. A line Dream had said so many times on streams or in videos, but this time it was different. George could hear the raw emotion and honesty in the words. George felt his eyes start to tear up. “I love you too, Dream.” George let the tears spill over, as they were tears of joy and happiness rather than sadness. “I never knew I could fall in love with a faceless man, yet that’s what I did. I fell in love with you, and when I finally did see your face, I fell for you all over again. You were no longer a faceless man, instead you were…” George trailed off, unable to think of any words to describe Dream. “You were, and still are something that can’t be put into words. Actually, I can describe you. Two words. Tea kettle.” George smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to the description, Dream started wheezing. His laughing wheezes caused his whole body to shake, sounding exactly like a tea kettle. “WHAT- </span>
  <em>
    <span>WHAT</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George simply laughed, a normal </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span> laugh, as he watched Dream practically choke himself with laughter. Once Dream had stopped wheezing, George continued. "You are so beautiful. Your hair, well first of all it's soft and I like it, but second of all, IT'S SO FLUFFY. Your eyes are the most gorgeous shade of green, and I'm not saying it just because it's one of the only greens I've seen in my life, but instead because it is legitimately beautiful. Oh wait, when we leave, you're going to have piss-colored eyes. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah! Your abs, and I'm just going to interrupt myself to say, 'How the hell do you have abs? You literally play Minecraft for a living!'." He stopped to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wow George, didn't know you were looking at me without my shirt on." Dream teased, almost as if nothing had happened. That made George a little sad; he didn't want things to go back to how they were. He wanted… "Dream, so what are we? Are we boyfriends or are we still just homies?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream thought for a moment before answering. "I want you to be mine. Mine only."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Short AF chapter but it's just so fluffy, I'm going to DIE!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream didn’t regret what he said. Not even when George crumbled, collapsing into Dream’s arms, crying happy tears. He meant it with all his heart. </span>
  <em>
    <span>George is mine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He smiled, wrapping George in his arms. “I love you so much George”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George wiped his tears away. “I shouldn’t be crying over this. This honestly feels like a Disney movie or something.” He laughed at the last bit, Dream joining, wheezing, at the ridiculousness but also hilarity of George’s statement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream smirked, standing up. “If this is a Disney movie, then you have to dance with me.” He offered his hand to George. Dream felt George’s hand grasp his own, and he dragged the smaller boy to the middle of the room. He let go for a moment, rummaging around in his inventory for the jukebox. George saw this and pulled out the disc. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not sure this is slow-dancing music, but whatever." He dropped the disc into the slot on the jukebox, hearing it spin like a loud CD player. The first few notes rang out, short and sweet. George moved Dream's hands to his waist, his own arms circling Dream’s neck. He leaned his head onto Dream’s shoulder, swaying gently. They were completely off from the music, but neither cared. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I don't want a lot for Christmas</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>There is just one thing I need</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>And I don't care about the presents</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Underneath the Christmas tree </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>"This isn't Cat. Dream, how'd you do this?" George questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know the exact mechanics of this world, but I was thinking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>All I Want For Christmas is You </span>
  </em>
  <span>when the skeleton shot through creeper, so maybe since this is in our minds, it adjusted to what I wanted?"</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I don't need to hang my stocking</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>There upon the fireplace</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Santa Clause won't make me happy</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>With a toy on Christmas day </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cool." They continued to sway, listening to the song as it played. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I just want you for my own</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>More than you could ever know</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Make my wish come true</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Baby, all I want for Christmas is you</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>At the last word, Dream leaned in and kissed George. "I know this is really cheesy and kind of cringy, but I don't care."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't worry about it. I don't care either." They danced long past sundown, into the wee hours of the morning. No one was there to judge anything- the fact that they listened to the same song all night, the fact that they kissed way too much, or even the fact that they really were "together". It was perfect.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"I'm going to find a lava pool. I wanna go on an adventure. Maybe go to the nether? Then we can get the blaze rods we need if we ever decide to beat the Ender Dragon.” Dream spoke as George drew. He was sketching a picture of the landscape, the tall hills, the setting sun, the trees that swayed in the wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Speedrunning habits die hard, I guess</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Alright.” George continued to draw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I want to go on an adventure with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not alone, that would be stupid.” George glanced up, sighing then setting his sketchbook aside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. When are we leaving?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now.” Dream started out the door, George hurrying to catch up. Dream slipped his hand into George’s, both smiling at the warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, doesn’t this seem  very similar to when we went looking for the village?” George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does. </span>
  <b>
    <em>Deja Vu, I just been in this place before. Deja Vu I just been in this place before.</em>
  </b>
  <span>” Dream sang the lines from the song, earning a laugh from George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so ridiculous.” George rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you love it,” Dream pointed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Yes, I do.” George fake pouted. He gave Dream a quick kiss on the cheek, giggling as he did so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so hot when you do that.” Dream smiled, looking only at George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what else is hot? That lava.” George pointed to a bubbling shimmering pit of lava. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw man. I thought you were going to say me.” George rolled his eyes again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make the portal. That way, if it gets messed up, it’s not my fault. Also, then I can just climb a tree for fun.” George said, tossing his water bucket at Dream. Dream set to work, building up the frame made of the hard, black rock. Pulling out a flint and steel, he lit the frame, purple particles instantly swirling out of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ready to go? Cause we’re going to literal hell!” Dream stepped into the portal, pulling George in beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spawned on a small, floating, chuck of netherrack above the lava. Dream sucked in a breath. George gripped his hand, reassuring him that everything would be okay. He had forgotten Dream’s fear of heights. A floating chunk of rock over a seemingly endless lava lake was </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably</span>
  </em>
  <span> not the best place for someone afraid of heights. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-what direction s-should we t-travel in?” Dream stuttered the words out, his eyes squeezed shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let's head, uh, that way.” I pointed in a direction before remembering that Dream had his eyes closed. He opened his eyes for a split second, looking where I was pointing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“L-looks f-fine.” He shut his eyes again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George gave Dream’s hand a squeeze. “Focus on breathing. Focus on my hand. It’ll be okay.” Dream nodded, slowing his breathing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In, 2, 3, 4, hold, 2, 3, and out, 2, 3, 4, 5. In, 2, 3, 4, hold, 2, 3, and out, 2, 3, 4, 5. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He felt himself calming down. “Thanks, George." Slowly, he opened his eyes, focusing on his breathing, and he felt himself relax a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George reached into his inventory, pulling out a stack of cobblestone. “Alright, Dream. I’m going to start bridging, so if you need to, close your eyes again and I’ll guide you.” He squeezed Dream’s hand again before placing down a block of cobble in the space in front of him. Strangely enough, the game had decided to use the Bedrock edition mechanics, meaning they could place blocks while looking in front, rather than having to shift on the edge of the block. George placed a few blocks, then looked back at Dream, who’s eyes were half-shut, able to see where he was going, but not much else. George gently tugged him along, continuing to bridge across the lava lake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost assuredly multiple hours later, a chunk of land came into view, barely visible through the smoky, foggy haze that covered the nether. George sped up his bridging again, wanting to get to the solid land. They had been lucky with not many ghasts being present, but he would still feel better when they were back on a floating chunk of rock that wasn’t only a meter cubed. A wailing cry made the hairs on the back of George’s neck stand on end. He recognized the sounds of the floating creature in the sky, the tear-track stains, the fireballs it could unleash. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Four blocks. </span>
  </em>
  <span>George cursed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s only four blocks. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He moved to place another block, but froze when he heard the blood curdling shriek that meant only one thing. He stood, frozen in place, as he watched the fiery ball of death come at him at an alarming speed. The next moment, he was flying, or possibly falling, through the air. He landed hard on the ground, his breath leaving him in a gasp. Beside him, Dream groaned, rolling over to face George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that. There was a fireball coming for us, and I decided that I didn’t want to be exploded today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George regained his breath, simply thanking Dream for saving them. He was helped to his feet by the other, almost tripping over a small chunk of rock. Dream steadied him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s almost as if you want to be in my arms, as you keep tripping, almost getting blown up…” Dream started listing all the things George could accidentally do to end up in Dream’s arms. George laughed, leaning into Dream, forcing him to wrap his arms around George. “It looks as though you do!” Dream exclaimed, before pulling away. “I will admit, I do too, but we need to find the fortress, Georgie.” George pouted, but let Dream lead him in the same direction they had been traveling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another few hours later of navigating through the hellish landscape, a dark maroon structure came into view, looming over the valley that the duo was currently in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Finally." Dream moaned. "Took long enough. Mojang, you suck."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George giggled. "Agreed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They built a staircase to the fortress walkways by digging into the walls, gathering blocks that could be very useful later on. The top of the fortress was empty, save for a few zombified-piglins wandering around. Dream led them around the fortress walkways, looking for the blaze spawner they would need. Coming into a small room with a singular lava source in the center, George slumped down to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ca- can we take a quick break?” He was out of breath, and clearly exhausted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Dream moved to place a line of blocks across the entrance, leaving two blocks of space underneath. It would keep wither skeletons out. Blocking the other entrances off, he moved to sit beside George. George laid his head on Dream’s shoulder, his breathing slow and deep. A smile tugged at Dream’s face, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll let George rest for a while. He’s obviously exhausted. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He surveyed the area, making sure it was safe. Sleeping in the nether was definitely a bad idea. Besides the fact that beds exploded, there were so many deadly creatures that could hide, but then surprise you with a fireball to the face. Despite this, he wasn’t about to wake George. He felt his own eyelids grow heavy, and after another look around, gave in to the sleep that was taking him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream was awoken by a sudden sharp pain in his forearm. This was accompanied by a high-pitched scream that could only belong to one person. He bolted awake, blinking his eyes to adjust to the hazy air. The first thing he was met with was an ash-stained figure of bones. The dark skeleton raised its sword, preparing to strike it through Dream’s chest, but just as the blade was about to fall, a new sword, this one made of shining iron, pierced the skeleton’s empty ribcage. The wither skeleton disintegrated with a shower of particles. George leaned over, checking Dream over for any injuries. Dream pulled his arm in, trying to hide the gash. He didn’t want to worry George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream, why are you hiding that arm?” George tried to tug Dream’s arm away from his chest, where he was hiding it in the folds of his hoodie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not!” Dream’s voice was more forceful than he intended, and it was laced with only barely hidden pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George reached out to grab his arm again, but Dream scooted away. “Dream! If you’re not hiding it, then why won’t you let me see?” Dream’s head started to go fuzzy, his thoughts simply speeding by without him registering them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Goddamn wither effect</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he cursed silently. George was by his side again, grabbing his arm and yanking it away with strength Dream didn’t know George had. George audibly sucked in a breath, seeing the jagged gash from the wither skeleton’s sword. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a cut.” Dream, at this point, was trying as much to assure himself of this fact as he was George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George rolled up Dream’s hoodie sleeve, grimacing at the blackish color surrounding the wound. “No, you’ve got wither effect. I don’t know how that works here, but it certainly is not good.” He rummaged through his inventory, and finding a clump of wool, he set to tearing it into strips that would serve as bandages. “Don’t move!” He snapped at Dream’s not very subtle scooching away. Dream sighed in defeat. He let George take his arm, examining the wound. His vision was starting to go dark, but he fought to stay conscious, focusing on the gentle touch with which George wrapped his arms in bandages. George cursed. "Dream, I need you to try and eat a few bites of this apple. Hopefully it will help the wither effect wear off faster." He helped Dream sit up, holding a shimmering golden apple. Dream groaned weakly, but tried his best to bite off as few small chunks of the juicy fruit. George looked at Dream again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>his health has got to be low. Maybe 1 or 2 hearts left?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream felt the golden apple's juice flowing through him, repairing the small cuts and scratches, until it eventually reached the slowly spreading black poison. He felt the war between the two magical things, along with his own health declining. The half of a heart of health he had left would be taken by the poison, but would almost instantly be regained through the healing power of the golden apple. George saw Dream struggling, the poison had much more time left than the regeneration effect did. Dream needed more of the golden apple, but was much too weak to eat it. After a moment's hesitation, George bit a chunk off the apple, spitting it back into his palm where he fed it to Dream. Dream choked a little on the sweet fruit, but managed to swallow it. The juice immediately started flowing through his body, reaching the wither effect once again. This time, the regenerative magic spilled over into the wither effect, overtaking the darkness with swirls of golden light. He collapsed into George’s arms, out cold from the war that had just been fought in his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George ran his fingers through Dream’s hair, occasionally wrapping a strand around one of his fingers. His boyfriend had been passed out for what George guessed was about an hour, and George didn’t know when he’d wake up. He looked around at the deserted fortress. It seemed safe enough to leave Dream to look for a blaze spawner. He stood up, carefully shifting Dream to the floor, and started walking in a direction. He apparently had chosen the correct direction, seeing as- not even five minutes later- he came across a blaze spawner. Pulling his iron axe out of his inventory, he stared down the blazes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wish Dream was here. He has that fancy axe, and I’ve only got an iron one. </span>
  </em>
  <span>George thought, not tearing his eyes away from the fiery monsters with their swirling rods. He saw that his axe was starting to chip at the edge of the blade. </span>
  <em>
    <span>An iron one with low durability.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He amended. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wonderful. Just perfect.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He sighed, and charged into the spawning area, making sure to crit the blazes. The first few he killed didn’t drop any rods, but after that, most of the rest did. Soon, he had all the blaze rods he needed. Turning back the way he had come, he set off. George reached the empty room- wait- empty? It wasn’t supposed to be empty. George had left Dream here, passed out. George’s blood ran cold as he realized a chilling thought: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream was gone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HAHA CLIFFHANGER! Like, this is the last chapter I have done rn but I'm working on it. I won't leave you hanging for as long this time. Sorry! Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone dies ;). But no TW I think? Lemme know if I need to add any.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream stumbled back into the overworld. The suddenly bright light from the Sun was a stark contrast from the dark haziness of the nether. His foot caught on a loose stone and he frantically tried to regain his balance to avoid falling into the lava. Steadying himself on the cold frame of the portal, he picked his way upwards, towards the crest of the hill, from which he would be able to see his home. Sure enough, when he reached the top of the hill, on the edge of the loaded chunks was the fuzzy shape of George’s and his house. He pushes through the forest, occasionally stumbling over roots and jumping when the leaves rustled suddenly from a bird taking flight or landing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I had to leave. It was just so… crushing. Like my lungs couldn’t get enough air. Like there was a giant boulder on my chest, keeping me from breathing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He did feel slightly guilty about leaving George, probably thinking Dream had died or something similar, but he had to get out of the nether. When he made it back to their house, he collapsed on his bed, throwing off his hoodie. Patches the Second mewed and leapt up into Dream’s lap. Dream scratched her under her chin, her purrs calming him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You understand, right Patches? You get why I had to leave. But then, why do I feel so guilty?” Dream continued to pet Patches, giving her some much-desired attention. “Now, George is still in the nether, and he’s probably going to get hurt, or die. And it will all be my fault. Or, at best, he’ll think I abandoned him, and he’ll hate me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meow,” was the only response Patches gave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>so helpful.” Dream rolled his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m talking to a cat. Wonderful.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He flopped backward, his arm over his eyes, as he sighed, letting his eyes flutter shut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George looked around, panicked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where had Dream gone?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Dream?” He called out his boyfriend’s name, thinking maybe Dream had left to go for a walk or to find George. Hearing nothing, he frowned. Had Dream left him? Why? George sighed. He was still in the nether, he might as well find a warped forest and get the ender pearls they needed. After he got the ender pearls, he would go back to their house; Dream would eventually come back there. He pulled out another stack of cobblestone, choosing to venture perpendicularly to the direction he and Dream had traveled in to reach the fortress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Many hours of bridging and exploration later, George finally found the teal and blue biome he was looking for. He quickly built a platform above his head, leaving only two blocks of space, preventing the endermen from hitting him. He looked the closest enderman in the eyes, provoking the lanky creature. It let out an ear-splitting shriek, trying its best to hit George, but due to the platform, it was unable to. George hit it with his axe, killing it. As the enderman vanished with a flurry of white particles, George’s axe broke with the sound of wood splintering, and metal snapping. He cursed, pulling out his less effective iron sword. RNG was not on his side, seeing as he must have killed at least 64 endermen and only gained 16 ender pearls. He made his way across the bridge back to the same crimson biome Dream and he had found the fortress in earlier. He searched through his inventory, looking for a couple of gold ingots to trade with the Piglins, perhaps he could get some extra ender pearls. He found only 3, pulling them out and throwing them at the nearest Piglin, who scampered to pick them up, lowering its crossbow. After considering the shiny ingot for a moment, the Piglin threw a glass bottle at George, who caught it, recognizing the shimmering orangey liquid as a fire resistance potion. The Piglin picked up the next ingot floating above the ground. Once again, it considered the ingot before throwing George some obsidian. The last piece of gold didn’t yield any ender pearls, instead revealing a pair of iron boots enchanted with Soul Speed III. George groaned, annoyed at the lack of luck relating to ender pearls. He continued his trek homeward, thankfully not encountering any ghasts for the large majority of the trip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It couldn’t have been any more than 5 blocks from the chunk of rock that the portal sat on when a shriek, akin to the one from earlier, the one that had resulted in Dream dragging him through the air in a desperate jump to land. However, this time, Dream wasn’t there to save him. The fireball reached George, causing the block of netherrack under him to explode. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was falling. The orange shimmering heat of the lava growing closer and closer. He flailed helplessly, the fall was taking so long. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is it. I’m going to die. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, how are we feeling? One cliffhanger to another. Sorry, not sorry. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream woke with a start. He felt as if he had been falling, heat radiating up from the ground that wasn’t visible through the ash. He shook it off. It was just a nightmare; he was safe in his bed, Patches curled up on his chest. Looking outside through the picturesque windows in the bedroom, he saw it was only slightly past midnight, probably around 1:30 in the morning. His gaze swept across the sky, surprised to recognize some constellations. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Clay, look. It’s the Big Dipper.” His father smiled and pointed at a group of stars that looked no different than the rest to young Clay. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s it supposed to look like? All I see is a bunch of stars, they don’t look like anything.” His younger self pouted, clearly tired and not understanding the point of his father driving them two hours from the city to see some pinpoints of light in the sky. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His father pulled out his cell phone, opening an application. “Look now. Do you see the cup?” He showed Clay the image on the screen, it was showing the same sky they were looking at, but now faint white lines connected the stars, showing the image of a cup with a long handle. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clay let out a gasp. “It’s a cup!” He looked at the sky again, this time the actual sky rather than the phone screen. He could still imagine the lines connecting the stars, the cup now clearly visible. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His father smiled and pointed to another collection of stars. “That is Orion the Hunter, the three stars are his belt.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can see the belt, but not the Hunter.” Clay took note of the way the three stars lined up, not a perfect line, but not extremely curved either. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Me too. Do you know where the word ‘constellation’ comes from?” Clay shook his head, no longer the tired child he had been minutes before. “The ‘con-’ part comes from Latin, meaning together. The ‘stella’ part also comes from Latin, meaning stars. Together stars. A fitting name, since the same constellations can be viewed across the globe. Remember this, Clay. Wherever you are, whenever, if you miss someone, look to the stars, they see the same stars. The stars connect you to them.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clay’s younger self smiled, not knowing the full meaning of his father’s words, yet still sensing they were important. He pointed to a group of stars that appeared closer to each other than any other stars in the sky. “What’re those stars?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Those are the Seven Sisters. Personally, it’s the easiest constellation for me to find. They’re only visible in the winter, and even though they seem close, they are billions of miles apart in actuality. Shows how small we are on the scale of the Universe.” Clay’s father looked up at the stars again, smiling. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They sat there, observing the constellations, and eventually the Moon as it rose, a third-quarter, filling the sky with the light it reflected from the Sun. Clay felt himself slipping into sleep but fought to stay awake. He was slipping though, he loosely felt his father pick him up and carry him back to the car. He settled into the backseat, drifting off into a deep, calm sleep. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream looked up now, spotting the Seven Sisters. He thought about his sister, she was probably asleep, her constellation patterned sheets rumpled and wrinkled. He thought about George, he was in the nether, he probably didn’t even know it was night. He thought about Sapnap, who knew where he and George had gone and had probably been contacted by Microsoft about what had happened at this point. The stars seemed to smile at him, reminding him of his father’s words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Together stars. The stars connect you to them.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He pulled his blanket to the floor, wrapping it around his shoulders. He curled up gazing at the stars, their presence calming him. He didn’t intend to fall asleep, but with the soft light of the moon and the solid feeling of the floor beneath him, he slipped into a deep sleep, this time free from nightmares. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream was awakened, rather rudely, by Patches climbing onto his lap and butting her head into Dream’s stomach. He groaned, blinking awake to the morning light. George still wasn’t home. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did I do something? Does he hate me for leaving him? Is he okay?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dream decided to trudge on with his day, he had faith that George would come back. He let out a giggle that, to any outside observers, would have sounded borderline insane. “</span>
  <b>
    <em>You’ll be back, soon you’ll see. You’ll remember you belong to me.</em>
  </b>
  <span>” He giggled even more as the lyrics left his mouth, the ridiculity of singing Hamilton, while stuck in Minecraft, while his boyfriend and best friend was missing while cooking mutton for breakfast. Maybe it wasn’t borderline insane, instead, perhaps it was fully insane. He didn’t care, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the day and the day after were also like this, Dream going about his day, yet also detached mentally. It was as if he was in another reality, in the reality he had created with his mind. Patches seemed to sense something was up, she kept alternating between skirting away from Dream and curling up next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was, by Dream’s calculations, the 31st of December. The year was almost over, and they were still stuck in the game. Well, he was still stuck in the game, he didn’t know whether George was or not. The answer to this question came a lot sooner than he expected. A faint figure outlined on the top of a hill, stumbling towards Dream. He didn’t need to be able to see the man’s face to know it was George. He was safe.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George hit the lava with a scream. Every nerve in his body screamed with pain. At any other time, he would have been picturing the scene from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Revenge of the Sith</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when Anakin is burned by the lava, but he was in too much pain. Somehow, through the pain, he was vaguely aware that he had a fire resistance potion in his inventory. Rallying all his concentration, he pulled it into his hand, downing the liquid. The pain stopped. He swam up to the surface of the lava lake, placing blocks in a pillar upwards so he could build a platform once he reached the surface. He did just that, hauling himself onto the hurriedly built cobblestone platform in the lava lake. He gave himself a once-over. There were quite a few burn holes in his shirt and a few on the legs and hems of his pants. Thankfully, his skin only looked badly sunburnt rather than like Darth Vader’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked back up at the portal. Placing a block underneath him as he jumped, he started pillaring up towards the portal again. Many curses left his mouth whenever a pebble would come loose from the cobblestone block, or when he looked up and saw how much farther he still had to go. There was one reason he didn’t just give up and sit on his half-built pillar until a ghast, or some other mob, knocked him off or killed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream. I’m doing this for Dream.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled himself onto the platform, where he laid and sucked in deep breaths. After what he deemed to be a very well deserved break, he shakily stood and walked to the portal, pausing for a moment before stepping into the swirling purple particles. The nauseous effect of his view swirling took hold before his vision turned black. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his vision returned, he saw the familiar forests of the overworld along with the bubbling lava pit they had used to build the portal. He placed down his water bucket, not wanting any chances to fall into the boiling rock again. Hisses filled the air as the orange turned to a deep blackish-purple. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now what do I do?</span>
  </em>
  <span> George considered going back to the house, but seeing as there was no guarantee Dream was there, he decided against it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I suppose I should just find the Stronghold. Someone needs to get us out of the game.</span>
  </em>
  <span> With his plan solidified, George opened his inventory, first crafting the blaze rods into blaze powder then combining the powder with the ender pearls. He admired the teal and green eyes, watching the purple particles float around them. The eyes were both heavy and light at the same time; when they were resting in his hand, they were heavy and cold feeling, but when they were hovering a few centimeters above his palm, they were light and gave off slightly warm radiation. George could feel the eyes trying to float up, to lead him to the Stronghold he needed to find but he kept his fingers curled around them. He let one fly up into the air, watching it streak across the sky before shimmering and dropping to the ground. George followed the eyes to where he thought it had landed, scooping up the eye and letting it fly away again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eyes had been thrown so many times that George didn’t even have to think about it. He trudged onward, letting an eye go again. His eyes widened when the eye flew straight down through the earth and stone. Pulling out a shovel and a pickaxe, he started to dig a two block pillar so he wouldn’t fall into any lava or a ravine. He dug a few blocks out from the left side of the pillar and, seeing the portal room, dug down the remaining blocks on the right side, dropping into the room. George broke the silverfish spawner, collecting the xp from it with a satisfying ‘ping!’. He placed the remaining ender eyes in the portal frame, activating it. The deep space-like void of the portal’s surface called to him, urging him to jump. Resisting the call was a struggle, but George knew he had to get Dream before going to the End. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Towering out of the portal room, he checked his surroundings for landmarks he could use to lead Dream back to here. Finding nothing, he sighed and built a tall pillar with a torch on top, an old-school beacon. George pulled a water bucket out of his inventory, considering whether to attempt an MLG. With the decision made, he jumped, placing the bucket of water to break his fall. With everything all set, he started walking towards home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>*</span> <span>*</span> <span>*</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George had decided to walk, even during the night. They were so close to finally getting out of the game and he didn’t want to delay it at all. At one point he paused, glancing up at the night sky filled with stars. A memory flashed to the surface of his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Have you ever seen the stars, George?” Dream’s voice was soft over the phone call as they both lay in bed, staring up at their ceilings.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve seen them in movies and occasionally when I would go to the countryside to visit my grandparents. But I’ve never been stargazing. Never sat there with anyone and </span>
  </em>
  <span>looked</span>
  <em>
    <span> at the stars, pointing out images and laying in soft grass.” George glanced out his window, the nighttime lights of the city blocking the light of the stars. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m going to take you stargazing. When we finally meet up, I’m going to show you the stars.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George wished Dream was there with him so they could look at the stars together. They may be in the same world, so close, yet they were still so far it felt as if they were still an ocean away. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream told me that constellations literally mean ‘together stars’. Like, the word ‘constellation’ is made up of those words. He also told me that no matter where you are, everyone sees the same constellations. Kinda cool, if you think about it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George scoffed. “Sapnap. Dream just likes to sound all wise and philosophical but he probably made that up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, it’s true. Google it.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George opened a new browser tab, looking up what Sapnap had told him. “It’s true! What? I didn’t think Dream would have known that if it were true.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, either way. I like to think the stars connect us all. They are the light everyone shares.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell Dream hi for me, okay?” George whispered the words into the empty night, the only sounds being the leaves rustling and wind blowing through the trees. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The final chapter!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Never had Dream run so fast in his entire life as when he saw George on the hill and ran towards him. He knocked George over with the hug he wrapped him in, both falling to the ground locked in an embrace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George laughed and brushed Dream's hair out of his face. "You really missed me that much?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You have no idea how worried I was! I thought you left me! I- I-” Dream was crying softly now, holding tight to George. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George pressed a soft kiss to Dream's cheek. "Shh, it's okay, baby. I'd never leave you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know that, but my emotions didn't." Dream sank into George.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry. I found the Stronghold though! We can finally get out of here." George stood, offering a hand to help Dream up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream stood as well, turning to George with excitement. "Let's get the hell out of here!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George led Dream to the Stronghold again, jumping down into the pool of water. They both stared at the portal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't believe we're actually here. After all this time. We're finally leaving."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It feels very surreal."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream took hold of George's hand. "You ready?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, George squeezed Dream's hand. "I suppose. Maybe we can leave exactly at midnight. That would mean we escaped on New Year's." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream chuckled. "Yeah. Let's try for that." Giving George's hand one more squeeze, he led them to the edge of the portal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George surprised Dream by pressing a quick kiss to his lips before jumping into the portal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream followed with no hesitation, spawning onto a nine-block obsidian platform. Finding the bridge George had started, he crossed, finding George hiding out in a quickly hollowed out cave in the end stone mass of the End Island. "What's the plan?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll take out the towers, you go in and try to use beds on the dragon." Neither knew why they were whispering, it had simply happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream reached into his inventory, searching for beds. He found four. Perfect. Racing into the circle of towers, he waited for the dragon to land, dodging it's attempts to kill him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dragon finally perched. Dream placed everything in the same places he was used to. The first bed got the dragon down to 3/4th health. The second got it to half health. Thankfully, the bed strategy killed the dragon easily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!" George screamed, grabbing Dream's shoulders and shaking him slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know, I was here." Dream smiled, wrapping George in a hug. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms for a while, just appreciating the fact that they were alive and they were together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can we leave now? I want to go home." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course." They made their way to the portal, once again teetering on the edge. "Happy New Year, George. I love you." As if to further prove his point, he cupped George's cheek and pressed their lips together, kissing him passionately. Dream pulled them both into the portal, falling and falling and falling…</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until everything faded to black.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The End?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for everyone who read this, left kudos, or even commented, I really appreciate the support! Yes, this is the end of All I Want but there is more DNF being written soon! I have oneshots written (just not typed or edited but who needs editing) and maybe I could write a sequel??????????? Maybe???????? Idk but thank you and byeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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